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FiftyFive ~ # 25
I like living in this town - there is always something new to see and I can walk to this view in about ten to fifteen minutes. Or run it, which I have done too and I remembered something I once wrote about running along the seafront and thinking I had captured it but like this picture its only a snapshot because it changes and the seafront today was not the same as yesterday. That said, I am still the same, I think, though ever cheered down but the depression that now constitutes the news which I now try to avoid. Of course, as Coleridge was to remind us, abstruser musings can only take us so far in life (Frost at Midnight again I'm afraid) - though I have to say, Noyes' English Romantic Poetry and Prose is the most important book on my desk, along with Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, for my screen is sitting on them and has been these last seven years while the stand I promised myself, to raise it to eye level, has remained unpurchased - but its better this way. But in the way of dealing with the news I remind myself that all is not well by often listening to Lucinda Williams - who does heartache and the Hall of Pain better than any living person well, this week. And so to it is to her I turn as the Haiti story and the Iraq story and the Afghanistan story and other unspeakable acts continue to dominate. But here is a curious thing - I picked up the Romantic Poetry book and a letter from my dear friend Alison dated 7/11/1995 popped out - I love keeping letters in poetry books, postcards too, they make great bookmarks and I stumble over them again and again, especially when they are filed with favourite poems. Anyway Alison had been to stay and it was great having her down - and a belated happy fiftieth dear Edinburgh girl - and then today, blow me down, her husband Gordon wrote me an email - and coincidence, serendipity and all that stuff is such a sweet haunting. I almost feel ashamed at marking the moment with Lucinda - though she reminds us how much we should mean to each other... but the picture above is for Alison and her fiftieth and the reminder that she is welcome back anytime...
I like living in this town - there is always something new to see and I can walk to this view in about ten to fifteen minutes. Or run it, which I have done too and I remembered something I once wrote about running along the seafront and thinking I had captured it but like this picture its only a snapshot because it changes and the seafront today was not the same as yesterday. That said, I am still the same, I think, though ever cheered down but the depression that now constitutes the news which I now try to avoid. Of course, as Coleridge was to remind us, abstruser musings can only take us so far in life (Frost at Midnight again I'm afraid) - though I have to say, Noyes' English Romantic Poetry and Prose is the most important book on my desk, along with Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, for my screen is sitting on them and has been these last seven years while the stand I promised myself, to raise it to eye level, has remained unpurchased - but its better this way. But in the way of dealing with the news I remind myself that all is not well by often listening to Lucinda Williams - who does heartache and the Hall of Pain better than any living person well, this week. And so to it is to her I turn as the Haiti story and the Iraq story and the Afghanistan story and other unspeakable acts continue to dominate. But here is a curious thing - I picked up the Romantic Poetry book and a letter from my dear friend Alison dated 7/11/1995 popped out - I love keeping letters in poetry books, postcards too, they make great bookmarks and I stumble over them again and again, especially when they are filed with favourite poems. Anyway Alison had been to stay and it was great having her down - and a belated happy fiftieth dear Edinburgh girl - and then today, blow me down, her husband Gordon wrote me an email - and coincidence, serendipity and all that stuff is such a sweet haunting. I almost feel ashamed at marking the moment with Lucinda - though she reminds us how much we should mean to each other... but the picture above is for Alison and her fiftieth and the reminder that she is welcome back anytime...
